Private Tales To Kill a Mocking Orc

[Hath Charosh]

Hath gave a shrug about the axe. It wasn't very powerful at all. The fact that it barely needed to be sharpened saved him time. The only other thing it did was to cut through magical constructs, and that had been useful on just one occasion. He doubted it would ever be required again; he didn't fight wizards as a habit. It did look intimidating though, which was why he had fought its previous owner for it. That, and for a female. Hath had won the fight and the axe, but not the other battle.

The Dwarves shuffled, uncertainty in their eyes. Hath sniffed the meat. He could have recognised anything from home, fresh or dried and salted. This he wasn't certain of. Whilst he didn't let Lagakh far from his sight they seemed to have pushed past the most dangerous moments of finding an understanding.

"Saw some of their kin a day's march from here," he said, returning to orcish. "One of these should have keys. Can throw them to one and get some distance. Just in case they go for the orc's weapons."

And then us, he left unsaid.

 

[Lagakh]

Laga was versed enough at conversations to muddle through what Hath was implying. The truth was that these dwarves were potentially desperate, likely starved, and it occurred to the Shaman that she wasn't sure what dwarves consumed.

Beyond ale and heavy wine. And she sure as pit didn't want to end up on the menu. Undoubtedly, Hath could handle himself in this situation but Laga’s self-confidence had waned with the shrugging of the clouds from the moons shroud.

“Hmm.” She growled orcish as she stuffed the meat back into the satchel, spying the dwarves over her narrow shoulders. She was pretty sure they had drawn closer.

Ruffling through the bag, the obvious clank of bound keys echoed lazily from the interior. Pulling the ring out, she threw it sideways towards the huddled group. The item bounced against some rocks and fell into the gravel near their feet.

“Go on then...unlock yourselves and go home.” The giant moved to stand up. “Not you!” A look of disappointment crossed his face as he sat back down. Laga’s view was fixed on the huddle mass of short and stouts, looking for the keys to their freedom.

 

[Hath Charosh]

Hath tested a blade across his thumb. The short sword seemed sharp, made of a blend of steel he didn't recognise. Most of the weapons the Molthal orcs carried were of poor quality and not worth taking.

Keeping his eyes on the dwarves he dropped to his haunches and took the belt and scabbard to match.

"What about the giant then?" he asked. Hath was devoid of ideas where it came to the weeping behemoth.

 

[Lagakh]

Despite her disregard when it came to these dwarves, the truth was that their presence in chains had spurred her initial attack. Her mother had been taken by a Blight Orc raiding party and Laga was the result of that defilement.

There was only room in this world for one Lagakh.

“Implementation has the strongest power when given freely.” She uttered in thick orcish as Hath looked through the various weapons. It seemed he had found something worth taking. Conversely, she moved over to the giant and presented two items.

A rune covered bone knife, curved and sharpened on the outside and serrated on the interior. And the other was a wicker lined demijohn, constructed of glass and fortified with inlaid runes.

“I need your blood.” She stated firmly in common, the Giant looked up to her with watery eyes. “I would prefer you to live through it. But it makes no difference to me. I'll take your thumb or your neck.”

The giant sniffed and nodded, offering his thumb. Laga uncorked the demijohn and held it beneath his thumb as she cut a deep gash. The giant winced, Laga rolled her eyes.

The dwarves were running now, leaving their chains behind them. The Shaman nodded in the direction and spoke quietly to the giant. “That where their home is?”

“Yes. Beradun.”

 

[Hath Charosh]

One of the blight orcs was pretending to be dead. Hath had been going to leave her there, but reconsidered. If any of them walked away from here they would report back that the orcs from the mountains had ambushed their party. He didn't want to land his hosts in danger.

Hath dropped his knee into the middle of the raider's back. There was a groan of protest as he took a fistful of hair but it was turned to a wet gurgle as he drew the stolen blade across a throat.

Looking up, he saw Lagagkh taking the giant's blood. Despite its demeanour he had little interest in getting so close to the giant. Would it return to the blight orc forces? He would need to find out, but he left the shaman to whatever ritual she was preparing.

 

[Lagakh]

“Okay.” She stated slowly, replacing the cork on the demijohn. Taking it by the thick leather straps, she slung it against her waist belt and let it hang against her haunch. Sheathing the knife, she waived off the giant in the closest thing to a thank you that he would get.

“You can go now. If I meet you with Blight Orcs again, this will go much differently.”

“Th-thank you.”

She didn't respond, turning back instead to Hath. He was busy mounting a dead raider and Laga couldn't help lifting an eyebrow.

“You two need a moment?” She smiled coyly as the orcish slipped from her lips, bending over to grab her bone club. The Hill Giant was moving now, slinking away in an easterly direction. Tossing the club against her back, she approached.

“This Beradun sounds interesting…defenses seem poor at least.” Though if they were aware of orcs taking slaves in the night, they might not have a kind expression for the pair, Ashlander or otherwise. “Unless…” Laga crossed her arms over her chest. “Your path doesn't take you in that direction.”

 

[Hath Charosh]

"She doesn't have one," he muttered. He let go of a head that flopped to the rocks, the dark pool spreading slowly from the slit throat.

Hath wiped the new blade clean on the the blight orcs cloak as he considered the options. Once the blade was sheathed he drew his furs more tightly around himself. The fighting would only chase the cold from his bones for so long.

"My path was taking me somewhere without blight orcs in the way and an angry patrol of dwarves behind me," he said with an indifferent shrug. "If we go there, better to catch up to those dwarves. Might be a reward for saving them. Otherwise I doubt we'll get any more than crossbow bolts our way."

If the dwarven town had been raided they would post more guards. If they arrived on their own he doubted the dwarves would stop to ask what kind of orcs they were.

 

[Lagakh]

She nodded thoughtfully, having come to the same conclusion. For an orc of Hath’s size and fighting ability, Laga was surprised to see such an aversion to conflict.

Maybe that was just the way Savanah Orcs operated. Her experience with other, non-Shadowreavers, had led her to expect something much different from Ashlanders. Not that they all enjoyed a fight, just that they weren't entirely inclined to shy away from it.

“Good point.” She adjusted her furs, doing her best to not mimic the larger orc, as she tightened the bone club and demijohn to her person. “Let's catch up with them…let our intentions be known. Arrow-less is my preference…”

 

[Hath Charosh]

The Dwarves were distinctly nonplussed about the reappearance of their saviours. An explanation that some shelter from the elements, trade and food were all welcome seemed to answer any further questions. Hath imagined that they had been marched hard through the pass and they were more interested in getting home than coming to understand the intention of the orcs.

There was still the possibility of a reward and whilst the dwarves didn't travel quickly they could be abandoned if necessary. Hath kept those thoughts to himself. Instead he decided to find out more about the other orc.

"Why did you decide to attack the blight orcs?" he asked bluntly. It wasn't their way to waste breath dancing around a question.

 

[Lagakh]

Their rejoining with the Dwarves was as anti-climactic as she hoped. They were likely too starved or too exhausted from the event and Laga assumed that the use of magic vexed them enough to avoid further questions. No one bothered a mage for fear of the answer.

The question posed by Hath has a complicated answer, one that Laga wasn't intent on illuminating this early in the excursion. There simply wasn't enough trust, or enough drink, to dive down that rabbit hole.

“That's a long story…” She tilted her head, expressing a frustration in the memory. “They wronged me. So I wrong them in return.” Seemed about as clear as muddy water. “Why did you bother helping?”

A small child clinked as she moved forward, tugged by the shared chain of the numerous dwarves. In the distance, a sunrise pulled over the mountain where the sun had no business being. The Shaman assumed it was an amalgam of firelight as she tore into another piece of salted meat.

 

[Hath Charosh]

If her answer wasn't satisfactory it didn't show. Hath wasn't a stupid orc, even if he was never going to be an intellectual. He preferred to keep his view on the world as straightforward as possible. A wild orc might seem a dangerous creature in a city of humans, but in the Wilds they were food.

"First thing I would do," Hath said before pausing to watch his footing carefully, "If I was attacked by another tribe, is send out scouts to see if there are any more of them."

Hath wasn't sure if that was the final reason he had started shooting or if he was attributing rational to his actions after the event. It didn't matter: what he had said was true.

He fell into silence again, leaving Laga to eat her spoils. It was clear that he had kept himself fairly well fed on the road. Mountain goats were good climbers, but they could not outrun an arrow.

 

[Lagakh]

That might have confused the Shaman but if it did, she made no inclination towards the fact. Instead, she nodded as if it all made sense, chewing loudly on her piece of overly cured meat. She had decided that it was rather gamey. Either it was a beast of burden that had been pregnant with fear before the slaughter or it was a feral version of the same, taking back the land before being taken down.

"Would you consider the Blight Orcs a tribe?" Her sharp eyebrow raised as she looked over to the man, surprised that he would put it in such terms. Those Orcs, as far as she was concerned, weren't Orcs at all. They were diseases or carrion, things that spread death and plague with their smocking stacks and plumes of black. The idea of considering Blight Orcs as a tribe nearly offended her.

"Tribes have tradition and culture. They have things that separate them. Shadowreavers, Stormcallers, we are tribes but we are united by purpose." She shook her head in disgust. "Those Blight have nothing in common with us but their tusks. And in that, they shame us."

 

[Hath Charosh]

"Don't think I would disagree with any of that," Hath said. "Regardless, they might have gone searching and I was rather too close. Glad the giant didn't have the usual threshold for pain."

He took a few strides to gather his thoughts on the Blight orcs. As far as he knew they had never reached his own lands. The Ashlanders had told him plenty.

"They tear up the earth and toil in industry. More like humans than orc." He wouldn't have finished off the wounded quite so callously even if they had been from a rival tribe.

 

[Lagakh]

While she shook her head, she agreed with Hath. The Blight Orcs were rot and the humans had similar practices, spreading through forests and lands, destroying and pilfering as their needs were met. It wasn't unlike the dwarves, but at least the smaller people knew of longevity and the importance of retaining assets. Humans and Blight Orcs, they exhibited a myopia that longer lived species couldn't seem to fathom. For some, it was a sign of charm and for others, an indication of brashness and regrettable existence.

Laughing quietly, she dwelt a bit more on the giant.

"In all my days on the Spine, I have never seen a Hill Giant respond to an attack like that...Thrashing and kicking like a child." She thought on the powers of the bottle, what that sort of blood could do as implementation. It was obviously no dragon blood, but there was divinity in it nonetheless. "But as I cut his thumb, I saw the child in his eyes. He had no desire for that fight."

After a brief pause, stepping over a fairly large stone and landing in a thumb, Laga shrugged. "I imagine many of the Blight Orcs felt the same. Interrupting their dinner was not polite on my part."

 

[Hath Charosh]

"We don't have giants in the savanna. I doubt there is enough food for them. Trolls though. The head of my arrow is probably stuck in his jaw still. I once had an arrow taken out of my shoulder blade. He is not going to enjoy that if having his thumb cut upset him."

Hath had not maintained a respectable silence during the removal. Three orcs had held him down as the shaman extracted the arrowhead. It almost made him nauseated to think about it, so he stopped.

Ahead of them he could see a path cleared through the rocks. The dwarves always had an affinity for the stone and how to shape it to their needs.

Over a ridge and Hath could see the lights of the settlement. It appeared to be a small town on land, but backed against a slope. It was hard to tell whether he could see most of the settlement and they had a fort built into the rocks or if he could only see a fraction of the town itself above ground.

 

[Lagakh]

Based on the Hill Giants response to pain, Laga assumed the figure would likely leave the arrow head in. Maybe he'd get lucky and it would just heal over. More likely that it gets infected and festers, eventually killing the Hill Giant. She was unaware of any Giant tribes around these parts that would be capable of guiding the youngling.

It was an unfortunate circumstance but one to which the Shaman paid very little mind

Laga noted the change in the path, like flagstones carved out of jagged steppes. It seemed intricate and complex, but also was a direct footpath to their stronghold or village. It was almost as if they were asking to be found by raiders. Laga assumed then, since the place was still clearly standing, that it was either well fortified or raiding parties simply didn't come this far South.

"Hey..." Her language changed to common tongue as she yelled out to one of the Dwarves. A woman turned and when she came to a stop, the others did as well. "When we get there, you will tell them that we helped you...yes?"

Laga's eyes pinned as the woman nodded with a smile.

 

[Hath Charosh]

On the way down he managed to glean a few details from the dwarves using his broken human words. The grand entrance at the cliffside was nothing more than the opening to a small mine. Many of the town worked there, but they lived above ground.

Their shapes must have been visible coming down the path as a call went up. As they approached five figures stood in a line of three and two ahead of them. Those at the front with shield and axe, those behind with loaded crossbows. Hath hated crossbows. He hated heavy crossbows that someone had already taken a minute to wind so tight that the bolt could skewer him good.

They didn't look as dangerous as the dwarves he had met on the road. Had they been so foolish as to send their best out to bring back the captives, leaving the town vulnerable again.

One of the dwarves they had rescued said something in their language. He only managed to pick out the word 'orc' being said several times. His destiny was not in his hands, but that was true most of the time. The winds carried him where they would. It was folly to think one person could have complete control of what happened to them, but it was an illusion most humans seemed to entertain.

 

[Lagakh]

Laga crossed her arms, clearly irritated by this reception. She should have expected something like this but in truth, her naivety and hopefulness got the better of her. What Dwarven town, in their right mind, would allow Orcs into their encampment after their people had been whisked off in the night by people of eerily similar complexion? Though if it were put in any words similar to that, aimed in her direction, that was grounds for an immediate fight.

And she lacked the necessary fear of crossbows to be deterred by this entourage.

"Let me do the talking..." She whispered in Orcish to her silent compatriot. It was quite clear, based on his current attitude, that that was his plan all along.

"This is a fine way to greet the two that saved your people from the Blight Orcs..." She spoke sternly in unblemished human, reflecting her mixed heritage with ease. One of shields men stuttered, surprised by the words. "The-the big one, he's looking at me!"

"Don't mind the big one. He's a big baby. Prefers cuddling over fighting. Very clingy." She said with a smirk as one of the saved dwarves piped up. "It's true. They saved us. Though...I don't know about that big one and cuddling." One of the small children piped up. "He's too grumpy for cuddles." "Yeah." Another child chirped.

"Enough." The commanders voiced boomed from the back wall, removed from the troop. "What is it that ya want, Orcs?"

The way he said Orcs, it sounded almost like an insult. Laga's eyes pinned as she ground her teeth. "Just some walls for protection this night. We will be gone by the morning."

"If it will shut this racket up, we'll let ya in. But you got to leave your weapons with the guards. Dun worry, they'll be returned back to ya when ya leave. Ya have me promise."

She didn't like that. But she also didn't need her weapons to defend herself. Turning to Hath, she raised her eyebrow and shifted to Orcish. "They...want us to leave our weapons at the gate before we can enter."

 

[Hath Charosh]

"I'll need to get them quickly if any more Blight Orcs come," he replied. He was always slipping his pack from his shoulder to hand over. He didn't like being without a weapon to hand. Only when he was in penteth Charosh did he sleep without a weapon close to his hand.

"What was that about a baby?" he asked, having not quite followed the full conversation. Hath could speak human but he didn't follow a rapid conversation with several participants easily.

"That axe is dwarven!" said the dwarf who had stepped closer to collect their weapons.

Hath's grip tightened around it. "It is mine," he said firmly.

 

[Lagakh]

She was surprised Hath was so quick to be keen on giving up his weapons, even with the stipulation that they would need quick access in the event of an attack. What didn't surprise her was the potential for a scuffle over the Dwarven axe. It was a beautiful and powerful relic, even if the runes were deeply drained and eroded. And the shorter species had quite the keen eye for valuable things. Laga had no care for such things but ownership was important in their culture.

"Wrong." She stated coldly as she moved between Hath and the approaching Dwarf. "That axe is Orcish, can you not tell by the one who is holding it?" She bared her tusks with a sneer, pulling the bone club over her shoulder and handing to the stout figure. She followed with the bone knife at her back. "Are these Dwarven as well?"

The dwarf shook his, holding the two items like they were a bundle of sticks for fire wood. "No, I thought not. Now will these be easily accessible in the event that we need them?" She stood firm as the commander responded. "What would ya need them fur?"

Laga looked up coldly to the man, tusks still gleaming in the gate side firelight. He made a capitulating gesture. "Ya ya, they'll be staying right here." He pointed to the interior of the fencing. "In a chest. With no lock. Now, please leave me lit'l brother aloon."

"Things go missing...I'm holding you accountable." She poked the small dwarf in the chest and he squirmed before Laga stepped aside, her tone changing to Orcish. "There, they'll be happy to take our things now. I'll tell you about the baby once I get some ale...assuming this place has any."

It was a Dwarven miners town. Of course they had ale.

 

[Hath Charosh]

There was an inn. There was always going to be an inn. They were the only people inside. The town was still on a war footing and many of its residents were on watch or sleeping inside the mine itself. The innkeeper seemed to take his duties and judging by the size of the obviously used warhammer behind the bar he felt safe enough here.


He watched them with small, suspicious eyes whilst he pretended to clean glasses. If he wanted to unnerved Hath he would have to try something different. The last time he had enjoyed dwarven ale it had been stolen.

"They do make good ale," he admitted as he washed down some pie. That lay cracked open and steaming on the table in front of him. The pastry was being ignored in favour of the meat and gravy inside.

"Now what was the deal with the blood? Oh and the baby thing!"

 

[Lagakh]

Everything about the Inn fit Laga's expectation. Down to the surly innkeeper with his aggressively thick eyebrows and hammer that likely weighed more than him. The place seemed as carved from stone as any Dwarven feature would, with coarse cut ceilings that were lofted well beyond the needs of even the tallest Dwarf. Laga decided that it was insecurity, and not a welcoming nature, that had caused such an aesthetic choice.

She was working on a pie of her own, though she hadn't picked around the pastry with the same enthusiasm as Hath. "It's okay." She nodded as she chewed on her cheek, eyes lifted towards the lanterns and chandeliers. She sensed magical residue, like the famed self-lit lights of Belgrath, but it seemed that had disappeared long ago for the more traditional form of lighting. That was too bad, she was hoping to find some master craftsmen in this town.

"The baby thing..." She paused, picking at the gravy. "Oh right. I told them you prefer to cuddle over fighting." She smirked, gaze drifting down to the Orc. "As for the blood, well I clearly drink it."

One lie, one truth, which was which.

 

[Hath Charosh]

An eyebrow quirked upwards at the comment and he scratched at the scruff of his beard. Both ale and fire were doing a good job of thawing out his bones. Hath didn't like the mountain climate, but he had to become accustomed to it if he was going to try and scale one of the peaks.

"You look young for a shaman to be using giants blood. That magic blinding the entire blight orc camp didn't it?" he asked. The magic of his own people was more subtle. They predicted the weather, cursed their enemies. Once he had seen a shaman bring down lightning, so he knew they could have a direct and immediate affect on the world when called for.

 

[Lagakh]

He didn't seem the type to call a bluff, but he was right about her age. Even pushing into the late thirties, that was basically adolescence in the Shaman world. Most elders seemed to measure their power by the count of their wrinkles or the way their eyes showed the persistence of a smile. The way things worked for the Shadowreavers likely differed quite a bit from a normal Orc Tribe.

"Well...looks can be deceiving." She stated quietly as she picked at some meat stuck on the side of her tusk. Content that it was either gone for good or there to stay forever, she leaned forward on the table and gestured to a carved rune against the ball of her shoulder - previously obscured by thick black furs. "How do you know that these don't keep me from turning to a crone?" The Shaman tilted her head, face all serious, before turning to a mild smile.

"I am young. Not that young, but young enough. And ya...it blinded them and gave me their sight. It just took a bit of my blood. Hence the need for the Giant's..." Blood.

 

[Hath Charosh]

"Would have been a shit use of magic," he chuckled, pointing towards the rune on her arm. "How...how do you steal someone's sight. I mean how do you take it as well as blind them?"

There were dwarven voices outside. He didn't understand, but the scouting party had returned and were being filled in on what had happened.

Hath picked the last few chunks of meat from the pie. Whilst he could have eaten another one, as a guest he didn't want to ask for more. That didn't extend to the ale and he asked as politely as he could in human for another mug.

"Make fucking good ale," he remarked. It was also stronger than what his tribe brewed.